Part 22 (1/2)

An animal cry tore from his throat, almost a cheer. He had her. She wasn't getting away. Not again.

”You just couldn't leave it alone, could you?” he demanded in a fierce hoa.r.s.e whisper. ”You have destroyed me. Ruined my life. Hunted me down like a dog. Now you're going to die.”

JACK CAME UP out of the blackness of unconsciousness. His head ached. He pushed himself up on all fours, the rain running down into his eyes. Rain and blood, he realized, as he touched his head and his fingers came away sticky. out of the blackness of unconsciousness. His head ached. He pushed himself up on all fours, the rain running down into his eyes. Rain and blood, he realized, as he touched his head and his fingers came away sticky.

Karen. He stumbled to his feet, his vision blurring for a moment as he fought to keep upright. He felt lightheaded. Off balance. And strangely naked.

He felt under his arm, against his ribs. The holster was empty. The gun gone.

THE CHAIRLIFT continued to groan, the chair with Howie in it rocking as it moved toward Karen and the killer. continued to groan, the chair with Howie in it rocking as it moved toward Karen and the killer.

She could see Howie now, his face pale, his body slumped in the seat, one leg up against the far side of the chair, the other with the one missing black loafer dangling lifelessly as the chair inched nearer.

Karen realized the chair with Howie on it would hit her and the killer if they didn't move.

Close to her ear, she heard the killer chuckle as she fought to free herself from his hold, but even as she tore at his sweats.h.i.+rt-jacketed arm and his face with her hands and kicked back at him, she knew her efforts were wasted. He was too strong for her. Too determined to kill her.

He tightened his hold, cutting off her air. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. Blinded by the rain and her own tears, she thought of Jack. She wanted him to be her last thought. Her best thought. It didn't matter now that he didn't love her. She loved him. And it was all she had now.

Lightning splintered the sky like a flashbulb going off in her face. Thunder came on its heels, earsplittingly loud. In that fraction of a second, she saw him. And she knew he'd seen her. Miraculously, Jack was coming up the mountainside as if her love for him had made him appear.

But at the same time, she realized he'd never be able to reach her in time. Darkness was closing in. She needed air. Desperately.

She struggled, knowing the man behind her was enjoying making her suffer. He wouldn't let her die easily-or quickly. She hoped.

Howie's chair was almost to them. The killer seemed to realize that they were about to be hit if they didn't move.

Just as he started to drag her back, she lunged for Howie. Wrapping her arms around his shoeless leg, she pulled with every ounce of strength left in her.

Howie's inert body didn't budge, as if he were bolted down to the chair, and for one heart-stopping moment, Karen thought her last-ditch effort had been wasted.

Her vision narrowed to only a pinpoint of light. Her lungs cried out for air as she teetered close to pa.s.sing out. The arm around her neck tightened as the killer tried to pull her back, but she held tight to Howie's leg, the chair rocking.

Then when she didn't think she could hold on any longer, she felt Howie's body give a little. He came cras.h.i.+ng down on her, breaking the killer's hold on her as they all three fell to the wet ground.

Karen heard the swinging chair hit something with a thud. The killer let out a curse. She fought for air, the darkness refusing to relent to the light. She could hear her attacker struggling nearby. As her vision began to clear, she could see two figures, limbs entangled. Air filled her lungs and she sucked in huge gulps.

As her attacker tried to free himself of Howie's inert body, he groaned and she realized she had had injured him earlier in the car. He was holding his ribs. injured him earlier in the car. He was holding his ribs.

She tried to get to her feet, gasping for breath, her throat on fire. His hood still shadowed his face as he finally managed to throw Howie off and lunge through the pouring rain for her.

She scrambled to get away from him. But she didn't move fast enough or far enough. He caught her ankle and dragged her toward him. She kicked furiously at him, hoping to connect with his injured ribs.

Suddenly Jack appeared behind the killer. She saw him lift the chunk of wood in his hands and bring it down. The killer's grip on her ankle loosened as the wood struck him in the shoulder, but he didn't go down. He shoved Karen out of the way as he turned to launch himself at Jack.

She fell back, tumbling and sliding down the hill, finally coming to rest against a tree stump. Above her the two wrestled beneath the chairlift. She scrambled back up on hands and knees toward them.

She didn't hear the chair behind her. Forgot about it until it hit her, flattening her to the ground.

She lay dazed for a moment, then looked up to see it inching toward Jack and the killer. The chair struck one of them in the back. She watched in horror as the corner of the chair seemed to catch on a piece of his clothing, dragging the man along as he fought to free himself.

It wasn't until the chairlift rose, the ground falling away again beneath the chair, that she saw the man dangling helplessly wasn't Jack.

The figure hanging from the chair wore a sweats.h.i.+rt. It was the hood that had hung up on the chair. He now clung to the chair with one hand. The other cradling his ribs as he tried to tear his hood loose.

She watched in silent horror as the man's efforts failed and he finally dropped his arm. The chair jerked along with him hanging by his neck, his arms at his side.

The body continued on up the mountain. She watched. Time suspended. The chair came through the bull pen and headed back down, slowly, painfully.

She saw Jack get to his feet. The rain began to lessen. In the dull light of the pa.s.sing storm and the approaching night, she stood a few feet from him, the two of them just looking at each other. Jack Adams. More of a stranger than he'd been before her memory loss.

A cop. A man who went around saving damsels in distress. That's why he'd pretended to be married to her. Why he'd pretended to love her. Just to keep her safe. To protect her. That's what cops did.

And he had had saved her. If only he'd saved her from this heartache, as well. saved her. If only he'd saved her from this heartache, as well.

She stood in the drizzling rain and cried as overhead the sound of a helicopter drowned out the gas generator and the grind of the chairlift. A spotlight splashed down from the chopper as it hovered above her.

She dragged her gaze away from Jack and looked up at the corpse hanging from the chairlift as the chair crept closer.

The spotlight shone on Dr. Carl Vandermullen's face as he dangled lifelessly against the pa.s.sing storm clouds.

KAREN'S MEMORY had returned. Jack saw it in her eyes. In the silent accusation there. In the hurt and betrayal. had returned. Jack saw it in her eyes. In the silent accusation there. In the hurt and betrayal.

But it was the pain in her gaze that was his undoing. His heart broke. Snapped like a twig. Leaving only an unbearable ache that tore at his insides.

He knew his pain was nothing compared to hers. She looked more devastated by what he'd done than by her encounter with a killer.

He'd destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to him. Why would she ever trust him again? He'd used her love and trust to fool her. All in the name of protecting her. It wasn't enough that he'd lied about the marriage. He'd bought into it himself.

He felt weak as he stumbled toward her, searching for words that would take away the pain. His Girl Next Door. G.o.d, what had he done?

Below them on the mountain, he saw Denny. He had Baxter. Baxter's hands were cuffed behind him. Annette stood nearby.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The hours that followed pa.s.sed in a blur of pain and confusion. Paramedics and police. A rush of uniforms and questions. So many questions.

Jack had tried to talk to her, to comfort her, but she couldn't bear to look at him, couldn't bear to hear his explanations.

”Jack, I understand,” she'd said. ”You were just trying to protect me.” That's what cops do.